


Over My Head

by leavesofautumn



Category: Open Heart (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, During Canon, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hospitals, Jealousy, Love Triangles, My First Fanfic, Rough Sex, Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:47:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22559875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leavesofautumn/pseuds/leavesofautumn
Summary: Bryce competes for a solo surgery as Ethan and Casey grow closer.
Relationships: Bryce Lahela/Main Character (Open Heart)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To celebrate writing over 100K in OH fanfiction I'm putting back up my original series. Enjoy!

“You looked dead rolling in today, Valentine. Memorable night?”

Bryce set a coffee cup down on the counter of the nurses’ station next to Casey’s elbow, giving her a knowing smile. She flushed pink, color rising in her cheeks as she turned to look up at him. Her eyes softened a moment, then immediately turned guarded. She gave him a teasing smirk.

“Not particularly, no.”

He put a hand over his heart dramatically. “Ouch, Case. You really know how to wound a man’s ego.”

She reached out and grabbed his badge reel, stretching it out before letting it go so it flew back harshly and bounced off his chest.

"Preciously - and that’s what makes _me_ memorable,” she said with a wink before picking up the coffee. She blew on it softly, then took a sip. A genuine smile spread across her face. “Is this…?”

“A white chocolate mocha with two shots of espresso _and_ extra whip? It is indeed,” he said proudly, if not a bit smugly.

She gave him a dumbstruck look.

“What? Is that not your usual order? Why the face?”

She shook her head, biting her bottom lip. “No, it is. I’m just surprised you remembered is all…”

Surprised he remembered? How could be forget? Two weeks ago they’d gone to get coffee together after work and had ended up back at his place. He’d laid there in bed with an arm propped up behind his head afterwards, watching her slowly re-dress, utterly transfixed on the movements of her shoulders and the arch of her back as she'd pulled on one of his sweaters. And all the while, the only thing he’d been able to taste on his tongue had been the ghost of that _damned_ frappuccino on her lips.

God, he’d ached to reach out to her that night as she’d slipped out his door, to pull her back down to him and keep her all to himself.

But that wasn’t them. Not anymore. In the beginning it had been, but lately things had changed. She was building walls up around herself, closing herself off little by little from him. What’s more, he didn’t think it was because of anything _he’d_ done. Honestly, it seemed the only person to blame for their slow drift apart was-

“Rookie, walk with me. I need your input on something.”

Speak of the devil. Dr. Ethan _fucking_ Ramsey in all his glory. He walked straight up to them, no mind that they were in the middle of a conversation, pressing a light touch to Casey’s arm and nodding his head towards his office.

“Oh, sure thing.” She turned back to Bryce, an air of professionalism taking over her. “We’ll finish this later then, Dr. Lahela?”

He came _this_ close to rolling his eyes.

“Sure thing, Dr. Valentine.”

He glanced over to Ethan, whose face was stoic, but whose eyes were sizing him up. Bryce gave him a nod and a polite, dazzling smile. One that said, in simple terms:

_Oh yeah, I could take you. Don’t even think about it, buddy._

“Dr. Ramsey.”

Ethan had met him before, but paused to ponder a moment, a faux air of confusion surrounding him.

“I’d exchange the pleasantry, but I’m afraid your name has escaped me, Doctor…”

He held out his hand, which Bryce took, gripping it a little harder than he meant to.

“Lahela. Bryce Lahela.”

_You know, the name your little prodigy cries out at night._

Ethan nodded in recognition, looking unimpressed as he turned and hovered a hand behind Casey’s back, turning her attention towards him as they walked off together. Bryce watched them go, noticing the way she gravitated into his pull like a moon drawn to a planet. God, she was like a smitten puppy when it came to that bastard.

Bryce turned to rest his elbows on the cool marble counter, dragging his hands down his face with a long, exasperated sigh. When he looked up he came face to face with Regina, the middle-aged Med-Surg secretary. She gave him a tight-lipped smile, mock humor in her voice as she spoke under her breath.

“You’re bringing her coffee now, Dr. Lahela?”

He gave her a hard state. He really wasn’t in the mood for this. She shook her head, reaching to staple a packet of papers together.

“You know, I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but there’s a running bet going with the nurses. Half of them already think those two are-”

_“Regina,”_ Bryce warned darkly.

She rolled her eyes, giving him a pointed look.

“Look sugar, all I’m sayin’ is it’s high time you tell Dr. Valentine how you feel. Because otherwise, you’re gonna lose her.”

.

.

.


	2. Chapter 2

_ “…you’re gonna lose her.” _

Regina’s words echoed through his head all day. He couldn’t shake them, no matter how hard he tried. Tell Casey how he felt? How was he supposed to do that, when he wasn’t even sure _what it was_ he felt for her in the first place? He couldn’t put the feelings into words. All he knew was that when he was with her he felt like he was high - like she was some drug he’d tried once at a frat party, only to find out later he’d become hopelessly addicted.

In the beginning he kept telling himself it was lust. Nothing but pure animal magnetism. That he was simply drawn to the curved outline of her hips, to that perfectly shaped ass and wild auburn hair. But as things progressed he slowly came to realize it was so much _ more _ than that. It wasn’t just the way she looked. He was drawn to _ her_. The person, the woman, the soul. To her spontaneity and sense of adventure. To her kind heart and playful personality that kept him guessing at every turn.

He walked into the men’s room, splashing a cold burst of water on his face. He had to get Casey out of his head, at least until the end of the day. Otherwise he’d never win the solo appendectomy he’d been competing for. Today was his last chance to make a mark for himself, and if he slipped up even once while assisting Dr. Adams on her cholecystectomy she’d ream his sorry ass; that woman was not a force to be reckoned with.

His watch vibrated, a little green envelope popping up on the screen. He tapped the face, opening the text.

_ Sorry I ran off earlier. Bar after work so I can kick your ass at darts? My treat._

Bryce sighed. This wasn’t helping. He _ needed _ to focus. He pulled out his phone, texting back a quick reply without even so much as a second thought.

_ See you there. _

Then he shut his phone off completely, severing the bluetooth connection to his watch before making his way into the locker room to put it up. Afterwards, he made the trek upstairs to the Surgical Center. As he got off the elevators he came face-to-face with its double wide doors. A large red line was painted across the floor in front of them, a stop sign on the side wall that read:

SURGICAL TEAM ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT.

He reached for his badge, scanning it on the pad next to the door. It lit up in cheerful greeting, the locks on the doors unlatching as they automatically opened before him. He stepped over the threshold, and all of his worries seemed to fade away with that one simple movement.

Because in _ here_, he was in his element. This was _ his _world, were things actually made sense to him. There were no feelings to decipher, no emotions to sort out. Just cold, hard calculations and carefully constructed outcomes. Enticing puzzles for him to solve.

He crossed into Gallery Two, pulling on a scrub cap before running a scrub brush up and down his arms in orderly, careful strokes. Dr. Adams was finishing up next to him, a nurse assisting her in pulling on her gown and gloves.

“You ready for this, Lahela?” the older woman asked, a proud smile in her voice.

He was more than ready. Daria Adams was an amazing mentor, and he was looking forward to showing off all he’d learned from her, to try his best to impress. As she made her cuts he would verbalize the walk-through, hopefully without a single error, and assist her as directed.

“You know me, doc. Always ready.”

“Good.” The corners of her eyes turned up as she pulled on a mask. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Scrubbed up, Bryce entered the operating theatre. The patient had already been put under, the anesthesiologist looking bored on the stool by her heard as she glanced over to check the capnography readings. A male scrub nurse stood off to the side, ready to hand them instruments as needed. Their secondary nurse, a women, was positioned on the left, holding a probe camera and awaiting further instruction. Bryce moved to his spot on the right side of the patient.

“Hard to remove a gallbladder from way over there,” he heard Adams say as she came up next to him. “Go on, kid. Take the lead. You’ve earned it.”

Bryce felt his heart race in his chest as a surge of excitement shot through him like an electric jolt. He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves and putting on a professional face.

“Alright, then.”

He moved to the left side of the table, ready to jump in, feeling a sense of sureness wash over him in cool, easy waves. After all, this was _ exactly _what he’d needed today. This would be his chance to prove himself. To show his mentor that he was more than willing to bring forth initiative.

“Whenever you’re ready, you may go ahead and present,” Dr. Adams said.

Bryce stared down at the patient’s face, peaceful in her chemically induced slumber.

“Marcy Whitaker, age 34, arrived last night to the ED with symptoms of nausea, vomiting, and upper right quadrant pain. Diagnosis, acute cholecystitis. Patient to undergo four-point laparoscopic cholecystectomy.”

Dr. Adams waved a hand. “Very good. Proceed when ready. ”

Bryce focused in on the patient, on the sound of the cardiac monitor beeping in the background and the lull of the ventilator as it hissed and released air through it’s turbine. Within a minute, the rest of the world had fallen away. He moved through each step of the surgery with care and precision, always thinking one step ahead…just in case.

“Very good…” Dr. Adams praised, halfway through as she watched the movement of his hands closely, “…go on and gently separate the cystic artery from the duct…yes, just like that. Well done! Now, tell me what comes next.”

Bryce continued to operate, narrating as he went. “I apply two clips, one proximal and one distal, and make the cut between…like so, cleanly separating the artery.”

“Excellent. Continue.”

The entire surgery went by without flaw and within minutes, Bryce was absolutely wonder-struck, lifting an actual _ goddamn _ gallbladder straight out of a living, breathing human being. Careful to avoid spillage, he set it aside. 

His hands trembled slightly as he laid down his instruments, a cramp releasing from his right hand. He exhaled hard. Just how long had he been holding his breath?

“_Fantastic_ work, Dr. Lahela. I’ll close up. Go take a breather.”

Bryce nodded gratefully, exiting the theatre, leaning against the wall just outside as he reached up to pull off his scrub cap. His hair fell down into his eyes, askew and slightly damp, but he didn’t care. He was full of adrenaline, as if he were standing on top of the entire world.

“How’s it feel?” Dr. Adams laughed, joining him by the sinks as she pulled off her gown and shoved it into a nearby trash can.

“_Indescribable,_” Bryce replied, nearly breathless as he grinned ear to ear.

“Confidence. I like that. But just how confident? Enough to take the helm on the appy?” she asked, leaning her shoulder against the wall.

“Hell yeah!”

Adams arched an eyebrow. Bryce cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed.

“What I mean to say is, I’d be honored to. Thank you for the opportunity.”

“In that case, it’s all yours. Don’t stay out too late and make sure you get a good night’s rest. Trust me when I say you’re gonna need it. Because it’s a whole different ball game when it’s just you in there.” She pulled a pad of paper out of her pocket, scribbling down a series of numbers. “Any questions between now and then, feel free to call. I’m here all night.”

She tore off the note and placed it in his outreached hand. He pocketed it, nodding his appreciation.

“Will do, doc,” he said. “Thanks, again.”

They went their separate ways. She turned left towards post-op and he made his way back to the locker room. His pace was brisk, his muscles wound up, his nerves still very much alight.

He changed quickly, pulling on a long-sleeved grey shirt and slacks before powering up his phone. A single text was waiting for him.

_ Just arrived. Don’t keep me waiting too long. _

He read the message and smiled warmly, texting back that he was on the way and had exciting news to share before dashing out the front doors of Edenbrook and making his way down the street towards the bar.

Casey was waiting for him inside, practicing throwing darts by herself in the back corner of the room. She caught his eye immediately as she turned towards her drink, an absolute vision in a low cut blouse and jet black maxi skirt that split all the way up to her thigh.

Even more lovely though was the infectious smile that lit up her entire face as she spotted him. 

He shook his head. _ Damn _ that smile of hers. He hated the way it tugged at something inside of him.

More so, he hated the way seeing her after a long day felt like coming home.

.

.

.


	3. Chapter 3

Bryce couldn’t help himself, not with the spectacular mood he was in. He made a beeline for Casey, scooping her up and spinning her around. She squealed with laughter, the sound like music to his ears.

“Oh my god Bryce, put me down!” she said between giggles. “People are staring.”

He placed her on the floor, watching her straighten her blouse as she spoke.

“You weren’t lying when you said you had exciting news, were you?” She looked up at him expectantly. “Well, _spill_ \- what is it?”

“Go on and guess,” he said, reaching for her drink. He took a sip, nearly gagging as a bland, bubbly taste hit his tongue. He swallowed hard. “Ew Valentine, what is this? Alcoholic water?”

Casey gave him a pointed look, taking her drink from his hand and finishing it off. “It’s a Tom Collins. It’s...yeah okay, it’s basically just gin and seltzer. You got me there.” She set the glass aside. “Now quit stalling and tell me the good news!”

“Nope. I said you have to guess,” Bryce said, picking up the black set of darts she’d set aside for him. He tossed one at the board, striking it dead center. He turned to give her a smug grin. “Your shot.”

Casey picked up the red darts. “Can I get a hint?” She tossed a dart, wincing as it hit the outer ring. He shook his head no. “Fine then, let’s see…” She looked him up and down. “Did you, I don’t know, get a haircut?”

Bryce reached up and ran a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs away from his face. “No. Why? Is it still a mess? I thought I’d fixed it. Damn scrub caps.”

Casey shrugged. “Don't worry. It’s messy in a cute way.”

He smiled as she winked at him, twisting a dart between his fingers as he stared down the board. He purposefully hit just outside the outer ring, sinking it in by the numbers.

“Rotten luck,” he mumbled, turning back towards her. He leaned against the table with his elbow. “Wait, back up, do you think I _ need _ a haircut? I thought you liked my hair.”

“I do,” she said, lining up to take aim. “It’s soft…like a lady’s.”

He reached out and shoved her playfully as she released the dart, causing it to miss the board completely and bounce off the wall.

“Your aim’s the only thing around here that’s lady soft,” he teased, folding his arms across his chest. “Now then, should I just go ahead and tell you, or did you want to make another silly guess first?”

She smiled cheekily. “Maybe just _one_ more silly guess.”

“Alright, but this one better be good.”

“Let’s see…” She tapped her chin with a single finger. “Could it be that you…I dunno, got the appy?”

A wide grin broke out on her face at his dumbfounded expression.

“Don’t look so surprised, meathead. I _ do _ pay attention when you talk, you know.” She gestured impatiently. “_So?_ Did you?”

He looked down at his feet, smiling softly to himself. “Yeah, I really did. Can you believe that?”

Casey shrieked with delight, throwing her arms around his neck. He reached up reflexively and caught her left wrist, stopping her from accidentally stabbing him with a dart in the process. She blushed in embarrassment as he stared her down, prying the dart from her fingers and dropping it to the table with a hard thunk. Then he felt his expression soften, pulling her back in and wrapping his arms around her. She nestled close.

“I am _ so _ proud of you,” he heard her say into the fabric of his shirt. “No one deserves this more.”

He rubbed her back gently. “Thanks, Valentine. That means a lot to me, coming from you.”

More than she knew.

She pulled away, awkwardly clearing her throat before taking his hands in hers and giving a little bounce of excitement. “You know what this calls for? _Shots_. You wait here. I’ll be right back.”

She dropped his hands, crossing the dance floor to the bar, her thin skirt swishing around her ankles as she walked away. He watched her go, drinking in his fill of her, staring at the glow of her silhouette illuminated under the soft orange lighting.

God, if angels existed, she had to be one of them. He was sure of it.

He turned and picked up a dart, twisting to release it towards the target in a single fluid movement. It landed right beside his first one, dead center. He smirked, remembering with fondness how he used to hustle darts for drinks back in med school, then spotted Casey’s red dart still lying on the floor. He replaced it with one of his, evening the score.

“Here we go,” he heard her say.

He turned to see her set down a small tray, seven clear shots lined up.

He grinned wickedly, arching an eyebrow. “Damn, woman. Trying to get me drunk?”

She shrugged sheepishly, picking up two shots and handing him one. “Oh, come on. We’re celebrating. Live a little.”

She didn’t have to tell him twice. They clinked their glasses together, tossing back the first set. He watched her face twist up with disgust and laughed, taking her empty glass and replacing it with a full one.

“Don’t back down now, Case. You’re the one who started this.”

She stared him down, narrowing her eyes. “I never back down, least of all from _ you_.” She slammed the shot in her hand, then immediately reached for another, tipping it back. She pointed to the glasses. “Come on, then. The rest are for you so you can get on my level.”

He took his shots obediently, smiling down at her afterwards. “What’s that now - two shots and, let me guess, three mixed drinks in you?”

Her grin was slightly tipsy. “It’s been one helluva week, Lahela. Don’t you _dare_ judge me.”

“Difficult patient case?”

She scoffed. “You could say that.”

“Patient X again?”

She didn’t reply, but paled. He tried to read her face, but her mind was suddenly elsewhere, her forlorn gaze directed towards the floor. He reached out and tilted her chin up, her eyes meeting his. They were slightly glossy.

“Casey, I know you said it was confidential, so I’m trying my best not to pry. But you should know I’m here for you if you ever need anything. You can talk to me. I want to help.” He searched her eyes. “How can I help?”

She reached up and squeezed his hand, leaning her cheek into his warm palm. A tiny smile quirked in the corner of her mouth.

“Honestly, you can help by distracting me. I don’t want to think about Patient X or _ anything _ else that has to do with Edenbrook tonight.” She leaned back, pursing her lips. “But what I _ would _ like to do is dance.”

Abandoning their game of darts, she started off towards the hardwood flooring, walking slowly backwards. She beckoned him with a single finger.

“You coming? Or does a girl have to dance alone?”

The clever retort he shot back at her was drowned out by the music, a rhythmic guitar solo echoing throughout the bar. He made his way to her, starting to feel the tequila shots swimming in his head. Did liquor normally hit him _this_ hard? This fast? When was the last time he’d eaten today - this morning maybe? He honestly didn’t give a damn, to be truthful, because right now, he was feeling _ good_.

A quick glance around the room and he realized he wasn’t the only person feeling good tonight. Drunken laughter was booming from the nearby booths and around him more than one couple were embracing their inner horny prom teens as they danced together.

Which meant no one would pay them a second glance. In dense crowds, there was a sort of freedom that way.

He smiled down at Casey, hands falling to her waist as she swayed them suggestively to the rhythm of the song. He gripped her tight, feeling the silky fabric of her skirt catch between his fingers.

They’d danced this way a hundred times now, acting and reacting to one another’s motions, flowing seamlessly with one another’s bodies. Some nights in clubs they’d never even bothered to learn the name of, others back at his apartment at three in the morning with her wearing nothing but one of his shirts.

Honestly though, it had been far too long now since they’d last danced together. She hadn’t asked him to go out with her in weeks and God - how he’d_ missed _ it.Missed the sound of her singing along to her favorite pop songs and missed the smile she saved only for him when they found their perfect swing of things. 

Missed the closeness.

Her arms looped around his neck as they turned to the beat of the bridge, where she froze still as stone as she met his gaze. She paused there a half breath, contemplating something, then smiled, biting at the corner of her lip almost shyly.

Oh, how he wanted to kiss that lip. He slowly slid a hand up her back, slipping up under the fabric of her blouse to pull her closer. He felt her arch in response.

They grinded against one another slowly in that fashion, lost in their dance, in the feel of the base and guitar and the liquor in their blood. She was laughing in his ear as he pulled back to spin her and he…well, he couldn’t get enough of this moment.

Hell, he couldn’t get enough of _ her. _He wanted her, every part of her, and in moments like this, when she dropped all her defenses, she was all his.

At least he thought she was.

Suddenly, he watched as something or someone caught her eye. She staggered a half step back, pushing off him, leaving space between them as she straightened her blouse. Cool air struck his face as he felt the heat of her body pull away.

“Case, what is it…?”

He glanced over his shoulder, looking over to the bar where Ethan Ramsey had just pulled out a stool. He was hanging his jacket off the back of it when he glanced up and spotted them through the crowd. When his gaze fell to Bryce he scoffed once before turning his attention frontward to order.

Bryce swore under his breath. That man had the worst possible timing out of anyone on the whole freakin’ planet. Every time he and Casey were finally having a moment again, that over-glorified diagnostician seemed to pop up out of nowhere.

And it was _really_ starting to piss Bryce off.

But what pissed him off more was the way Casey had pushed him away when she’d spotted her mentor, as if in embarrassment. She’d pushed him away like a woman caught cheating.

Seriously though, why the _fuck_ did Ramsey’s opinion matter so much to her? Why did she care about the two of them being seen together by him? He swallowed hard, throat suddenly tight.

…why wasn’t _he_ enough for her?

Perhaps it was the ever rising levels of alcohol in his blood, or maybe it was just plain, unadulterated jealousy that made him reach out to her, grabbing her by the waist and stepping close to whisper in her ear. He knew the stance was possessive, which was exactly how he wanted it to look.

“Come on, you and I are slipping out back,” he said in a low voice resembling a growl, his lips grazing her earlobe.

He felt a shiver run up her spine at the command. She turned to him, hesitant for a long moment, then nodded, her breath catching with excitement. They made their way through the throng of dancers, slipping out the back door and into the narrow alley. It didn’t escape his notice that she glanced back several times to make sure Ramsey wasn’t watching.

_ Fuck him_. He would make her forget all about that man. He would show her that he was all she needed, that he was the only one who could give her everything she desired, everything she _ needed_. That it had been always been _him_, right from the very start.

From that very first day they’d kissed in that supply closet.

The door had barely closed behind them when he reached for her forearm, spinning her around so she was flush against him. He locked her in place, lips seeking hers in the dark, hard and demanding. She responded immediately, her body recognizing him and they way they moved together.

He slowly backed her up against the wall, grinding his hips against hers, a continuation of their dance from before, only now on a much more intimate level. His teeth grazed over her bottom lip, tugging gently, and he felt her hands clutch the back of his shirt in fistfuls as she returned the favor with plentiful enthusiasm. Trailing a hand down her side, he found the slit of her skirt and flipped it aside, rough palm against smooth skin as he hitched her leg up around his.

The way they fit together had always been so natural, so easy. He arched his hips against hers, pressing up against her center through their clothes. He ground himself there against her with a languid slowness, drawing an impatient groan from her.

He too was impatient. Eager. He slipped a hand between them, feeling how ready she was, even through her panties. _ Christ_, she was wet.

For _ him_.

He teased her, sliding the fabric aside as he moved to trail his lips along the side of her neck, sucking on the soft skin there as his fingers gently probed her. His thumb moved to circle that sweet little spot of hers, a rhythmic pattern forming as he flexed his wrist. Her head fell back in pleasure, nails digging into his forearms.

After a moment he pulled back. A small protest escaped her lips, which he kissed once more. There he lingered, breathing ragged, forehead pressed to hers as he closed his eyes.

“Don’t stop,” he heard her whisper hoarsely. He opened his eyes, looking down at her. Her skin was flushed and heated, her eyes wild as they searched his face. She reached for him, fingers hooking his waistband firmly. “I want you. Right here, right now.”

That was all he’d needed to hear. He kissed her deeply, hungrily, reaching down to unzip his pants before sliding his hands up under her skirt to grip the back of her thighs. He felt the muscles of his back contact as he lifted her, pressing her back against the hard brick wall for balance. Her legs wrapped his waist in a habitual way, and he wasted no time.

He entered her in one swift motion, feeling the moist heat of her body grip him as they joined together. She cried out in bliss, and he quickly leaned forward to capture that sound in his mouth, effectively silencing her.

Because God help him if they were caught like this.

But then again, that was half the thrill, wasn’t it?

There was nothing gentle about the way he handled her in the minutes to follow. This wasn’t some lazy Sunday morning sex they were having after he helped her to study. No, right here and right now he was downright _ fucking _ her. Much faster than usual, much harder and with much more demand. He was angry, hurt, and feeling desperate.

And he was taking it out on her. Expressing himself in the only way he knew how to.

At the angle their bodies were pressed together she came quickly, shaking against him, holding him tight as the tremors poured over her, and that was all it took to drive him over the edge. He quickly pulled out of her, pressing himself against her thighs, shuddering as he leaned into her shoulder with a gruff moan.

He lowered her to the ground slowly afterwards, not daring to meet her eyes. He took a deep breath and turned away, zipping his pants before running a hand through his hair in frustration. He felt slightly dizzy all of a sudden, if not a bit nauseous, no doubt from the mix of alcohol and overexertion, but there was something else he couldn’t quite shake as his adrenaline died down. A feeling that was hollow. One that left a heavy pit in the base of his stomach.

He heard Casey hiss under her breath, and turned back towards her. Her torso was twisted, and she was craning to look over her shoulder. She reached a hand up and touched the skin there, wincing. When she pulled it away there was blood on her fingertips.

“Fucking hell,” he swore, reaching out to turn her around so he could take a look at her back. He felt himself pale when he realized he’d ripped the top corner of her shirt open against the brick. Small scratches and a single long cut blemished the skin there.

He’d hurt her.

“Dammit Case, why didn’t you say something?”

She chuckled, shaking it off as she turned back to him. “Bryce, I’m fine. Relax, would you? It was just an accident.”

“Yeah, but look at you,” he said softly, guilt coursing through him. “You look like you’ve just been mugged.”

He hadn’t meant to lose control like that with her. He stepped back, sighing as he pressed a hand to his temple.

“Look at _ me_? Look at _ you _ ,” she retorted, gesturing vaguely in his direction. “Why the hell are you getting so worked up over this? So we got a little rough - big whoop. We’re drunk. It happens. I told you, I’m _ fine_.” She reached for him, her small hand falling to his shoulder as she cracked a concerned smile. “Are you?”

He nodded, shaking her hand off with a shrug. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“No you aren’t, you big liar. Something’s bothering you. What is it?”

He turned to study her face, trying to find any semblance of words that made sense, that explained what was going on inside his head in that moment. He blanked.

“I wish I knew,” he finally whispered. He lifted his fingers and pushed a stray strand of hair from her face, then dropped his hand and smiled weakly, noticing the growing concern on her face.

“Come on,” he said softly, putting a hand on the small of her back. “Let’s go clean you up.”

She took a step back, challenging him with a hard gaze. “You know what, no.”

“No?”

She crossed her arms, stepping back to lean against the wall with one foot propped up. “No, not just yet. Because we _obviously_ need to talk about whatever’s eating away at you. So talk, Lahela.”

What could she possibly want him to say? She was reaching for something, he could see that, but whatever it was, it was out of his grasp. _ She _ was out of his grasp.

And it was getting late. His watch starting beeping, alerting them that it was midnight. Which wouldn’t be an issue if not for…

Fuck.

The appendectomy.

He felt the color drain from his face. Holy hell, what was he _doing_? He had his first solo surgery tomorrow. He shouldn’t still be out and about on the town, and he _ definitely _ shouldn’t be drunk. He should be at home, studying and resting up like Dr. Adams told him to. Not out here, vying for scraps of attention from a woman who obviously didn’t love him the way he loved her.

He felt his blood turn to ice as that thought ran through his head a second time, more slowly and twice as loud. 

_ Fuck everything_, was that what this was? Did he _love _ her?

He couldn’t deny it any longer. He did. He absolutely did.

He loved her.

He was in love, for the very first time in his life…and it felt like absolute shit.

Because she wasn’t his to love. She never would be. He thought of Ethan, and his heart dropped from his chest right to the ground before him.

Shit, he couldn’t do this anymore. He had to break things off now, before he got hurt. Their arrangements…their secret rendezvous, it wouldn’t be enough for him anymore now that he knew what it was he felt for her. He wouldn’t be able to handle sharing her attention, nor the feelings of constant jealousy that were gnawing away at him while he should be focusing on one of the most important turning points in his career.

Loving her this way, it would prove too much a poisonous distraction in the end. One that would surely kill him.

“Casey…” He sighed.

Where to begin? He knew what he wanted to say, even though he knew he couldn’t say it. The words were right there, on the tip of his tongue.

_ I love you. I love you so badly it hurts. I never meant to fall for you, and I don’t know how it happened, but I did and I’m sorry. Just please…just say you love me too. Say there’s no one else. Be mine. Love me, and only me._

“Case…I don’t think I can do this anymore,” he whispered instead, defeated.

She looked confused, then hurt. “_This_? What is _ this_?”

“_This,_” he said, reaching to cradle her face in his hand with a humorless laugh. He stroked her cheek with his thumb, staring down at her lips. He felt his eyes water. “_Us._”

She swallowed hard. “I...don’t understand.”

“Yeah, well that’s the problem. Because I think I finally do.”

She swallowed hard. “Bryce, come on. Don’t do this.”

“I have to,” he said, as gently as he could. “You’re my best friend, Casey. That’s never going to change. But whatever _ we _ are, whatever _ this _ is, I can’t take it anymore. It just isn’t who I am. This isn’t how I act. I mean, just look at what I did to you. That isn’t _me_. I don’t want to be _ that _ guy. I don’t want…”

_ …to love you like this. To not have control like this. _

“I just need some space. I’m sorry.”

She looked up at him like he’d just struck her across the face. Tears welled up in her eyes.

“Oh, you’re _sorry_? Well that makes it all okay then, doesn’t it?”

She reached forward and shoved his shoulder, moving past him so he wouldn’t see her cry. But he heard it. Heard the little sob catch in her throat as she reached for the door handle. He caught her wrist, holding her there in limbo.

Then he drew back, clenching his fist and dropping it to his side.

“Don’t cry over me, Valentine. Please. I'm not worth it,” he whispered softly.

She scoffed, throwing her hands up in annoyance. She turned to face him, eyes red. “Yes, you are. You’re just too stupid to realize it.”

With those words she turned heel and disappeared back inside, slamming the door behind her. Bryce felt a chill pass through him as he was suddenly left alone there under the cover of nightfall. He stepped back until he felt himself hit the wall, sliding down it as he buried his face in his hands. 

_ What have I done? _

.

.

.


	4. Chapter 4

Bryce felt the trickle of drizzling rain begin to fall from the sky. He picked himself up off the ground, dusting debris from his pants before making his way down the alleyway and out onto the street. The bar was starting to empty out, couples lingering on the sidewalk as they hailed down passing taxis.

Bryce wondered if Casey had made it home safe. He usually walked her home after their little outings, back to the townhouse she rented alongside the other interns, but tonight he’d simply…let her go. He’d reached for her, only to instead allow her to slip from his grasp.

_ It’s better this way_, he thought bitterly, stuffing his hands in his pockets as the wind began to pick up. _ Just go home. Leave well enough alone_.

But he couldn’t. He was torn and sobering fast, feeling as if he were being pulled in two. He knew he needed to go home and prep for his surgery tomorrow, but also knew he would never be able to get any sleep tonight if he wasn’t sure she was safe.

He found his footstops carrying him towards Emerson Street of their own accord, half in a trance, half fully aware, stopping before the row of upscale homes she lived in. Bryce smiled to himself, glad she had the sort of allies in her corner to be able to afford to live like this. He himself had never gotten along well enough with the other surgical interns to get a roommate. They saw him as too much of a threat, and so he lived alone on the outskirts of the city.

He took out his phone, staring down at his somber reflection in the black screen. Should he call her? Would she even answer?

A figure passed by the front bay window of her house, stopping when they noticed him. A hand shifted the curtain aside, and Jackie’s face came into view. A moment later the curtain drifted shut and she was opening the front door, shuffling down the steps with her arms crossed over her chest. She wasn’t wearing much. Thin pajama bottoms and a tank top. She looked absolutely freezing.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, not quite in annoyance, but definitely not in cheerful greeting. Simply straight forward and direct, as she always was.

“I just wanted to make sure Casey made it home safe.”

Jackie sidestepped with her feet, debating something, then sighed. “Yeah, she’s home. Got in about twenty minutes ago.”

He swallowed hard. “Did she seem…was she-”

“Upset?” Jackie scoffed. “I’ll say. But she said she didn’t want to talk about it. What happened? Did you two get in a fight?” 

Bryce shrugged a single shoulder. “You could call it that.”

“Did you break up?”

He exhaled sharply, rocking back on his heels. “We weren’t dating.”

Jackie arched an eyebrow. “No? Then what would you call it? Because from where I was standing that’s sure as Hell what it looked like.” She held up a hand, ticking off her fingers. “I mean, the two of you go out together, you study together, you probably swap dozens of texts a day, and what’s more - you spend the night here at _ least _ twice a week, thinking you’re all sneaky and shit when you leave at four in the morning. So what’s that called, if not dating?”

“We’re just friends,” was all Bryce could think to reply.

“Bullshit,” Jackie said flatly, narrowing her eyes, “The two of you have never been_ just _ friends. Face it, Bryce. You broke her heart tonight. Be a man and own up to it.”

The rain started to fall heavier, and Jackie rolled her eyes at him, turning to disappear back inside the house. He didn’t stop her, instead turning towards Maple Blvd to board the Metro as he mulled over her words in his head.

The ride home was a short one, and as he pushed open the front door to his apartment he felt the dead silence of his living quarters engulf him. He tossed his keys on the counter and made his way to the couch, sitting down with a heavy heart and an even guiltier conscious, peeling his wet shirt off his back and chucking it aside in disgust.

He _ knew _ focusing on his career right now was the right thing to do. Maybe if he and Casey were attendings, things could be different. But they were _ interns._ His surgical career was just beginning and was off to a bright start, with an even more promising future just out past the horizon. He had to stay on track. Had to focus. He’d worked for this his entire life, beaten all the odds, and now everything he’d ever wanted was finally within his reach.

He could go to become one of the greats. He could change the face of medicine and make a difference in the world. He wholeheartedly believed he could. That was exactly what he’d come to Edenbrook to do.

But what was the point of literal guts and glory if at the end of the day he always came home to an empty life? If he couldn’t share his stories and laugh with someone over dinner? If he never actually connected with someone?

…the way he and Casey had connected, all those months ago.

Two souls crossing paths and becoming intertwined almost instantaneously, gravitating towards one another without ever having meant to.

He loved surgery. It was everything to him. It was _ who he was. _All that defined him.

But he loved her too, so damn much, and that was all he could think about as he kicked his legs up and fell into an a light, uneasy sleep, too drained to even make it to the bedroom.

~)x(~

It felt like only minutes later that the alarm clock on his phone went off. He rolled over, not expecting to be on the couch, and fell to the floor with a heavy thud. He stood up with a curse, rubbing his elbow where he’d struck it on the coffee table, and made his way towards the shower, steps dragging.

At close to five he rolled into the hospital, reaching into his locker to pop three tylenol tablets and change into his scrubs. The bright teal fabric seemed duller today as he pulled it on over his head. Much less glowing than usual. Or perhaps that was just his mood.

“You dropped something.”

He turned to see Casey reach for a scrap of paper that had floated towards the floor from inside his locker. It was the slip with Dr. Adam’s phone number on it. He took it from her hand, their fingers slightly brushing in the exchange.

“Thanks,” he said stiffly, placing it back inside. He turned to lean a shoulder against the wall, looking down at her. She looked exhausted, eyes bloodshot and hair pulled back in a fierce, tight knot, even though she never wore it that way (because for some reason she hated her _forehead_ of all things - something that had always puzzled but amused him).

“I’m sorry,” he blurt out, before he could stop himself, “I never meant to…that is, if I hurt you-,”

“No, please. It’s okay. Don’t apologize,” she said awkwardly, cutting him off, “I think the only reason I got all emotional on you last night is because I’d been drinking. But you and I - we’re fine. Really, no worries.”

Bryce blinked, not convinced. “Are you sure?”

She gave him a lazy half-smile. “You said it yourself - no matter what, at the end of the day, we’re still friends.” She reached for his badge, pulling it out and letting it go with a snap. “_Best _ friends…and that’s never gonna change.”

He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed by the sincere honesty in her voice. Because if he hadn’t hurt her, that meant they’d only ever been casual lovers in her mind - nothing more - and that stung. Deep. But at the same time, to see her smiling again…that meant the world to him.

“I’m glad,” he said, pushing off the wall. He walked towards the door, glancing back at her once more.

She was smiling at him softly. “Hey, not that you need it but I’ll say it anyway….good look with the appy today. I know you’ll do great.”

“Thanks, Case.”

“Anytime, meathead.”

His surgery wasn’t scheduled until noon, which was a long time to sit and think about everything that could go wrong if Bryce didn’t keep himself busy. He attended rounds dutifully, then checked on his patients individually, updating them on their progress and treatment plans. By then it was still only a little past ten, and he found himself leaning slumped over the Med-Surg counter, downing his third cup of coffee.

“Rough night?” Regina asked, not bothering to look up as she tapped away at her keyboard.

Bryce made an incoherent noise in response, staring down at her in silence over the top of his cup. She stopped typing, glancing past his shoulder.

“Don’t look now hon, but I have a feeling today won’t be much better. A certain someone does _ not _ look pleased to see you.”

Bryce furrowed his brow, turning to glance over his shoulder.

“A word in my office, Dr. Lahela?” Ethan Ramsey asked, face expressionless and professional, gesturing towards the door down the hall as he approached.

“Finally remember my name, huh?” Bryce replied dryly, pushing off the counter. He really wasn’t in the mood for whatever this was. “How convenient.”

Ramsey didn’t reply, but seemed stiff as Bryce followed him into the same office he’s seen Casey disappear into a hundred times over since the beginning of the year. It was larger than Bryce had expected, but he wasn’t given the chance to look around. As soon as the door had clicked behind them Ramsey was on him, hands twisted in the fabric of his shirt as he was shoved roughly against the drywall.

When Bryce looked down the man’s eyes were downright murderous. A split sliver of fear ran through him, as well as a secondary, sense of thrill.

“Well, well….maybe I can see the appeal in you after all,” he said in mock flirtation.

Ramsey looked up at him with disgust. “Now would be an excellent time for you to shut the fuck up, kid. Do I look like I’m in the mood for your stupid games?”

Bryce shrugged. “Apparently not. Which is a shame, because I’ve been told I’m hella fun to play with.”

Ramsey cocked his fist back and reflectively Bryce flinched, bracing for impact.

“Pft. That’s what I thought,” Ramsey said. He lowered his fist, glaring hard. His other hand still held Bryce against the wall. “Now, do you wanna explain to me why Dr. Valentine left the bar the other night crying and bleeding or am I going to have to ask you twice?”

Bryce laughed humorlessly. Oh, this was rich.

“Really? Is _ that _ what this is?”

Bryce reached up, grabbing Ramsey by the collar and flipping them so that their positions were reversed.

“Just where the hell do you get off, accusing me of that kind of shit? Is that the type of man I strike you as - as someone who beats his woman?”

“This isn’t doing much to convince me otherwise,” Ramsey said darkly, gesturing at his stance.

Bryce relaxed his grip, stepping back as he let his hands fall away. “We had a disagreement, not that it’s _any_ of your business, and to answer your completely uncalled for question - no, I did_ not _ hit her.”

“Then how’d she get injured?” Ramsey asked, skeptical.

“Do you want me to paint a graphic picture, or can I just leave that part to your imagination?”

Ramsey paled, then took a step a threatening step towards him.

“You’re an arrogant little son of a bitch,” he said matter-of-factly. He sighed deeply, frustration pouring off him. “I don’t like someone like you hanging around Dr. Valentine. Never have. You think I don’t know what type of man you are? I know _ plenty_. People around this hospital talk, you know.”

“First off, Dr. Valentine is a grown-ass woman. One who’s perfectly capable of making her own decisions. She doesn’t need someone like you running around playing White Knight on her behalf.” He gestured vaguely. “Second, _ let _ the hospital talk. Let them say whatever the Hell they want about me! You think I care? Because I _ don’t_. The people spreading those rumors are the other interns - who are all just jealous, incompetent little shits. But you know what? None of them matter. Because by the end of this residency, they’ll all be gone. But me? I’ll still be here - and you know why? Because I’m a _ damned _ good doctor.” Bryce stepped up against Ramsey, eyeing him hard. “What’s more, I’m a good man. One who cares for Casey, and one who isn’t afraid of the likes of _ you_.”

Bryce shoved past him, turning back once as he opened the door.

“Nothing to say to that, huh? _ That’s what I thought_.”

He shut the door behind him as he left, feeling jittery as he took a deep breath to collect himself. He had way too much caffeine in his system to be getting this worked up. He glanced down at his watch. It was only a half hour to eleven. He made his way upstairs, putting Ramsey far from his mind, stealing himself for the operation to come.

Because now he had more to prove than ever before.

~)x(~

Dr. Adams was waiting just outside Gallery Two, talking with the two RNs who would be assisting him today. They introduced themselves as Karen and Daniel, and he recognized them as two of the most experienced RNs from their department. Adams was spoiling him.

“Ready?” she asked, eyeing him cautiously.

“Born ready,” Bryce said, reaching out to shake her outstretched hand firmly.

She nodded with approval. “Good luck, then. I’ll be up top watching with the others in case you need anything.” She gave him a knowing smile. “No pressure.”

He glanced up at the gallery windows. Half the surgical interns had crammed themselves inside of the small room and were waiting for him to start. And it would have been nice, having them all there, if he thought for even one second that any of them were there in a show of support. But no, he knew them all too well by now.

They were all carnivores, ravenous sharks, every last one of them, all patiently waiting to claw their way into the top surgical spot.

All there solely to watch him fail.

“They don’t scare me.”

Adams clapped her hand on his shoulder. “Nothing scares you. It’s what makes you a good surgeon, Lahela.”

He smirked. “Thanks. I owe a lot of it to you.”

He scrubbed and gowned, entering the operating theatre and looking down at the woman on the table. She hadn’t been put under yet.

“Miss Carol, fancy meeting you here,” he said casually as he approached the table.

Carol Wilson, a spritely little twenty-three year old female, beamed up at him. He’d been by her room this morning to explain the procedure and have her sign paperwork, and she’d been more than a little anxious about the surgery to come. He’d pulled up a chair to her bedside and had answered each and every last one of her questions with the utmost level of patience, even the ridiculous ones, and after a while, she had finally relaxed. Now she was ready.

They both were.

“Ready to bid adieu to that troublesome appendix?”

“I’ve been ready for two days now, doc. Thought my parents would be able to make it out here in time but their plane got delayed, _ again_. So I guess it's just you and me when I wake up.” She grinned up at him cheekily. “Not that I mind those circumstances.”

Bryce laughed, feeling the residue tension leave his body. “Alright then, Miss Carol, on _ that _ note, I think it’s time we put you under.” He nodded towards Karen. “Let’s go ahead and RSI. Propofol and Succinylcholine, please.”

The nurse double checked the dose with her co-worker, then proceeded to push the drugs through the IV line.

“Sweet dreams, Carol,” Bryce said softly, watching her eyelids begin to flicker and finally shut. The anesthesiologist ran a finger over her eyelashes. With no response, he proceeded to intubate.

And then it was time. Bryce took a deep breath, then accepted the laproscope that Daniel held out for him. He inserted it, threading the camera down into the abdominal cavity. There was a murky dark liquid surrounding the appendix, obstructing some of his view.

“Look’s like we’ve ruptured,” he muttered to himself, glancing up at Karen. “Let’s get a drain ready to place when we’re done.”

“Yes, doctor.”

After inserting both trocars he set to work, eyes up on the camera monitor as he visualized his intended target. He cut away the surrounding tissue, exposing the minuscule organ to his view. There he steadied his hand, reaching forward to clamp it off before separating it carefully from the wall of the colon.

“Nice and easy,” he said, a smile in his voice as the bag on the end of his instrument looped the appendix. He pulled it out slowly, setting it aside in the tray Daniel held out for him. Then he turned back, suctioning up the excess fluid from the rupture. She would have to stay in the hospital for a few days on antibiotic therapy now that they'd seen it had burst, just to be sure all was well, and even though that would be inconvenient for her, it was most definitely for the best. Sepsis wasn’t a joking matter, after all.

With the external drain in place, Bryce removed the three instruments from Carol’s abdomen, setting them in the metal tin nearby.

“Alrighty then, let’s get you closed up.“

Bryce stitched her closed with care, knowing scarring would be the last thing a young woman of Carol’s age would want to deal with down the road.

He was only two sutures from finishing the procedure when shit hit the fan.

“Doctor, something’s happening on the monitor.”

Bryce glanced over his shoulder, watching Carol’s heart rate suddenly begin to climb.

“Are we waking up?” he asked, confused as he looked down at the anesthesiologist.

Dr. Johnson didn’t get a chance to reply, because that’s when the alarm sounded. Bryce’s eyes shot back to the monitor, where he watched the bright green EKG line grow irregular, then barely a split second later, erratic. Bryce didn’t hesitate. He reached down, feeling for a femoral pulse along the inside of her groin.

There wasn’t one.

“We’ve got a code blue!” Daniel announced, stepping forward and placing his hands on Carol’s chest. He began to push down, starting CPR.

_ “Dr. Lahela, I’m coming down.” _

Adams’ voice sounded throughout the room, coming from the intercom system. He looked up to see her releasing the button near the glass before turning to flee down the stairs, then glanced left, stunned into silence.

Because between all the ravenous surgical interns pressing their ugly noses up against the glass there was one woman, eyes wide, staring straight down at him from a seated position.

_ Casey._

He shook his head, half convinced he was imagining her up there, turning back to reach for the paddles behind him.

“Charge 200!” he instructed, pulling aside the blue surgical tarp to expose Carol’s chest.

He listened to the defibrillator wind up, watching Daniel’s compressions to insure proper depth until the shock was ready. Then he stepped forward as Daniel stepped back, pressing the paddles to her skin.

“Clear!”

Karen delivered the shock, and Carol’s body arched off the table beneath his touch.

But her rhythm stayed the same. She was still in v-fib. He handed back the paddles, taking over as he began to push equal, recurrent pressure against the lower half of her sternum.

His brain was operating a hundred miles a minute as be shouted, “Push one of epi!”

_ …no medical history…no allergies…unknown family history…no hives…not anaphylaxis…she’s only twenty-three…no signs of shock….she’s only twenty-three…she can’t just die…she can’t-_

_She's only twenty-three._

“Dr. Lahela, what’s happening?”

Adams' voice was frantic as she entered the room, scrub gown askew from haste. Bryce was handed back the paddles.

“Charge 300!” he said, not acknowledging her presence. “Clear!” He delivered another shock, stepping back. Sweat was beading on his forehead. Daniel continued CPR as he stood there, looking down at Carol’s still form.

_ …no reason for this…why, why, why is this happening…what am I missing…think…think…think… _

Another round of CPR. Another round of epi. Adams stepped up to take over compressions, locking eyes with him from across the table.

“Bryce, look at me. _ Focus._”

“I _ am _ focused!” he shot back at her, more harsh than he meant to, twisting towards Karen. “Charge 360!” Adams stepped back as Bryce pressed down the paddles. “Clear!”

_ …come on Carol…we’ve got this…it’s you and me…I’ll be here when you wake up…but you’ve _got_ to wake up… _

As the shock delivered, a steady beat sounded behind him. His breathing ragged, he turned. Sinus tachycardia.

“Get me a twelve-lead, stat. I want to see what’s going on.”

Daniel’s ran to grab the machine, hooking it up to Carol with practiced, impressive speed. At the same moment, Karen ran to the phone, paging cardiology.

As the page printed out, the head of Cardio, Dr. Morson, stepped through the room unscrubbed, holding a mask loosely over his face.

“What've we got?” he asked gruffly, stepping up behind Bryce, his low voice like thunder in the otherwise quiet room.

Bryce’s eyes skimmed the page in his hands. It couldn’t be…could it?

“Brugada Syndrome,” Dr. Morton confirmed, looking over his shoulder. “Dr. Adams, scrub in properly. We’re going to have to place an emergency ICD. Karen, set it up. Daniel, prep the patient.” His eyes fell to Bryce. “Lahela, get out.”

Bryce’s face hardened. “With all due respect, I’m not leaving my patient, sir.”

“This isn’t a punishment, Lahela, and this wasn’t your fault. You did good, son. She’s still alive. Now let me take over. This is what I do.”

Adams ushered him out, turning to the sinks as she began to scrub up. She didn’t look at to him as she spook.

“He’s right, Lahela. You didn’t do anything wrong. Relax.”

“Relax? Carol Wilson just died on my table!” he countered, ripping off his scrub cap and backing up against the wall.

“From a _ genetic _ heart defect. One she didn’t know about, and one we had zero reason to suspect.”

“She died…” he repeated, still not believing what had just happened. Everything had been going so smoothly. It had been a simple appendectomy, _ so _ simple, and then she’d just-

“But you brought her back, Lahela. If she survives this, it’s only because of you. Remember that."

Bryce swallowed hard, looking up at Adams through bleary eyes. “You and Morton, you fix her, you hear me? She’s a _good_ person. She doesn’t deserve to die today.”

“She won’t,” Adams said, determined. “Now go on. Have one of the nurses try for the family again. I’ll come and find you when we’re done.”

Bryce nodded, watching as she re-entered the theatre, a sense of dread filling his chest. He called the nurse’s station from the nearby wall phone, instructing them to page him if they got a response from the family, then ducked into the nearest supply closet outside the operating wing, his entire body shaking.

He needed a minute to calm down, to clear his head, to _ breathe_. The door slammed behind him, and he made his way to the nearest shelving unit, striking it hard with the palm of his hand. The entire metal structure shook, suture kits nearby falling to the floor in an avalanche.

“Bryce?”

His heart clutched in his chest, his throat running dry at the sound of her voice. He turned, watching as Casey slipped just inside the door.

.

.

.


	5. Chapter 5

“I thought maybe you could use a friend,” Casey said softly as the door clicked shut behind her. She took a step towards him, then hesitated, turning to lean against one of the shelves instead. She folded her arms across her chest. “How you holding up?”

Bryce scoffed, tilting his head back to stare up at the dark ceiling. “How do you think?”

“Right, dumb question. Sorry.” She shuffled her feet. “Will the patient be alright?”

“That’s what I’m waiting to find out,” he said solemnly, pulling his pager from his pocket. He stared down at its blank screen, willing for it to light up with news - _ any _ news at this point.

He sighed, turning the device over in his fingers. The waiting would be the worst part. He wished he could’ve stayed with Carol during the follow-up operation, but also knew exactly why Dr. Morton had sent him away. It was more than apparent to everyone - himself included - that he’d become far too emotionally invested in this case, and investment could make you careless, reckless - a dangerous liaison for someone like a surgeon.

“Is there anything I can get you in the meantime?” she asked.

Bryce couldn’t help but crack a half-hearted smile. It was funny, in a way. He’d asked her the very same question after her first code when he’d found _ her _ hiding away in a supply closet. She’d asked to be held, and he’d pulled her into his arms for the very first time that day, not quite knowing then why it had felt so right. Not quite knowing he was doomed from that very first stolen kiss.

“Nah, I’ll be fine. Besides, I’m sure you have better things to do than hang around all afternoon with some hack-job surgeon in a dingy closet.”

Bryce flinched as a trauma pad bounced off the side of his head.

“Hey, what was that for?” he asked, a hint of laughter creeping up in his voice as he stared down at the giant gauze square that had landed on the floor by his feet.

“For calling yourself a hack,” she said sternly, giving him a hard look as she pushed herself off the shelf. “I mean, do you honestly believe for one minute that that’s what you are? Because you’re not, Bryce. I was up there in that gallery today, and all I saw was brilliance. You were, for lack of a better word, _ incredible._”

“My patient _ died_, Valentine. Did you miss that part?”

“But not because of you. Your operation was a complete success, and I for one am glad I was there to see it.“

“Why _were_ you up there?” Bryce asked, turning to look at her with a quizzical expression. “How did you even gain access to the gallery?”

Casey grinned sheepishly, reaching into her pocket and producing a Student Pass. “Rafael once told me paramedics learn to intubate through rotations in the OR and, well…Ethan may have gone and left one of these bad boys hanging around his office the other day.”

“So you stole it?”

Casey bit her lip.

“Damn. Didn’t know you had it in you. I’m proud.”

Casey stared down at the pass in her hands. “I guess I just really wanted to be there to see you perform your first surgery. I dunno why.” She tossed him a faint, teasing smile. “Looking back, it seems like a lot of trouble to go through for the jerk who just broke up with me.”

Bryce felt a lump rise in his throat. “Casey-”

“Can it, Lahela. I’m just messing with you. I knew perfectly well from the start what we were. You never made any indication to suggest otherwise. Which is why I felt so stupid for letting myself…” She trailed off, breaking eye contact with him.

A hush fell between the two of them.

His curiosity piqued.

“Letting yourself what?”

Casey’s expression grew flustered. She waved away the subject with a flick of her wrist. “Oh no, mister. I’m not opening that can of worms. Not today. Maybe someday, over a bottle or two of cheap red wine, but not today.”

Bryce felt his pulse begin to race. He took a step forward, staring down at her, studying her face as she averted her gaze. She was pulling away from him again, he could tell, but he wasn’t going to let her. Not this time.

Because at this point, he simply _ had _ to know. It would kill him not to.

“Letting yourself _ what_?” he asked again, softer, listening to the desperation that filled his voice.

He watched as her eyes began to water. She swallowed hard, staring up at him bleakly for a long, impassable moment. She looked so vulnerable. Like she knew firsthand all the pain of the world.

“…letting myself fall in love with you,” she replied quietly, her voice barely a whisper as she took a defensive step backwards. She threw her hands up in defense with a sad bout of laughter. “For letting things go too far, for reading too much into us. I’m not simple, Bryce - I _ know _ it’s my fault you ended things. You figured out how I felt and it freaked you out. I scared you away, what with all my…._f__eelings _ and shit, when I should’ve just-”

Bryce could barely register her rambling as she continued to drone on. His mind was on a single track now, a train with only one destination.

“Woah, woah, woah. Back up a sec, Case.” He took a deep breath, swallowing hard as he felt himself choke up, stealing the sudden nerves that tingled his insides. “You…you _ love _ me?” he asked, not quite believing what he’d just heard. “_Me? _”

Casey gave him a mocking, sardonic look. “Like you don’t know.”

A tense silence split the air, and then her face paled, eyes widening.

“Oh my god, you _ don’t _ know.” She exhaled hard, clapping her hands together. “Well then, isn’t that just _ super_? Now I can officially go crawl in a hole and die of embarrassment.”

Bryce felt himself close the distance between them in a single stride, reaching out to cradle either side of her face in his hands. He gently stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, feeling something broken inside of him finally _ click,_ all the shards and broken pieces of his heart seamlessly coming together again as he gazed down into her shocked green eyes.

“Or you can shut the hell up and kiss me,” he said without waiting for a reply as he brought his lips down to meet hers.

He kissed her gently, sweetly, slowly, feeling her melt into him as he pulled her close into the welcoming warmth of his body. She molded against him with ease, every curve of her luscious form pressed up against him in all the right places.

After a moment he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, a stupid smile spreading across his face. He felt like he was sixteen years old inside, full of butterflies or moths or whatever the hell kind of bugs filled people in love. It was such a simple feeling, this sense of happiness amongst crisis, one that spread throughout him in ripples of comforting waves.

“I don’t understand…” he heard her say softly, confusion laced through her voice, “You didn’t want this…you ended things.”

“I was a goddamn idiot,” he said, leaning down to kiss her again. This second kiss was not gentle, not in any way - not now that he’d gotten a taste for her. He kissed her feverishly - a man possessed - and my God, did she taste _ delectable_. Had it really only been a day since he’d last kissed her? He felt like he was starving for her. Like it had been _ years._ He kissed her once, twice, three times. Then he pulled away, hands sliding tenderly down the sides of her arms until they found hers.

“You think _ you _ scared me away? Casey, I scared _ myself_.”

“What do you-”

“I love you, Valentine,” he said breathlessly, “Maybe since the day I met you…and definitely every day since.”

“Bryce…”

She seemed at a loss for words. Speechless, she grabbed the front of his scrub shirt, pulling him down to meet her in another searing kiss. His hands roamed her body as his mouth freely explored hers, pushing aside her thin white coat so he could slide his fingers up under the edges of her blouse. He held her by the bare waist, firm grip on tender skin, and felt the little sound of pleasure she made against his lips when he knew she wanted more.

“Say it again,” she whispered, tugging at his bottom lip with her teeth, “Tell me you love me.”

“I love you,” he said, feeling her desire radiate through him as he bent to trail hot kisses down the side of her neck and collar.

Too blissful a kiss. Too serene an encounter. Too perfect a woman.

The sudden sound of shrill beeping cleanly severed their intimate moment in two, bringing the both of them back to Earth.

Bryce glanced down at the pager as he held it up between them, relieved as he read the message that scrolled across the screen.

“They’ve moved my patient to the ICU,” he said, pocketing the small device. He looked down at Casey, at her flushed face and soft, loving expression. He cupped her cheek in his hand, savoring it. He’d never seen such a tender look in her eyes before, and would never tire of seeing it in all the years to come. It was more precious to him than any gem. He kissed her lightly, breaking away with an aggravated groan.

“I hate to leave you hanging, babe…but I _ have _ to go. I promised her I’d be there when she woke up.”

“Far be it from me to keep Edenbrook’s _ best _ surgical intern all tied up,” she said with a teasing smile as he stepped away to open the door.

He couldn’t help it, he turned back to her with a sly, suggestive grin.

”Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said with a wink.

He stepped out into the hall first, looking both ways to make sure the coast was clear before leaning back to knock on the door once with a closed fist.

They’d done this a time or two before. Two knocks meant to wait five minutes.

“I can get to there faster if I cut through the back stairwell,” he said, nodding his head to the left as Casey stepped out of the closet. “Do you want to come with me?” He paused, backtracking. “Sorry, I’m not trying to sound presumptuous. Do you have your own patients to attend to?”

“Sienna is covering for me the rest of the day so no, I have nowhere else to be,” Casey said as she gestured with her hand, “Lead the way.”

When they arrived he scanned his badge against the back doors of the MSTICU, stepping back as they opened outward. The charge nurse recognized him as he approached the counter.

“Room three, doctor…and um, doctor.”

Bryce patted the marble twice, muttering his thanks as he turned towards the long row of double wide glass doors. The curtains in the third room had been left wide open, not a single visitor in sight.

He approached the glass cautiously. The door was already cracked, and he slid it the rest of the way open with ease. Then he swallowed hard, staring down at Carol’s still form sprawled out across the bed. She still hadn’t awoken since they’d extubated her, and besides her subtle breathing, she was still as stone.

Still as death.

But she _wasn’t_ dead, he reminded himself, looking up at monitor. Everything was beeping regularly and her vitals were steady, strong and stable.

“Atta girl, Carol,” he whispered proudly, grabbing a plastic chair from the corner of the room. The legs scraped loudly across the floor as he placed it next to the bed. He sat down, clasping his hands together under his chin as he stared down at her. Watching her chest rise and fall was oddly comforting to him, like a cold splash of reality. He knew then, deep down, that she would pull through this.

“I wanted to congratulate you on a job well done,” came Dr. Adams' voice from the doorway, “Your technique in there was flawless.”

Bryce turned towards the older woman, who was leaning on the glass frame. He wasn’t sure what to say to her in return. Casey had already reiterated to him that his surgery had technically been a success, but it still seemed to him such a hollow victory, and also had opened his eyes to all the unpredictable and inevitable risks of his job. Before today, surgery had been so snip, cut and close in his eyes. But now he knew firsthand how quickly things could change. How quickly someone could circle the drain.

“You’ve never worked a code before today, have you?” she guessed, studying his forlorn expression.

“Only on the megacode simulator,” he admitted, thinking about the robotics training device in the downstairs lab. He’d logged more hours there than he could count.

“I see…and how was the transition to an actual person?” she asked.

“…different,” he said carefully, not quite knowing _ how _to explain it. “There was much more adrenaline involved when it actually came down to shocking a real person. Some anxiety too.”

It took a lot for him to admit the later. He didn’t like to show weakness, not to anyone. But he trusted Dr. Adams. She’d taken him under her wing when no one else had, and had given him the chances he’d needed to soar.

“Surgery _ is _ adrenaline,” Adams said pridefully, “It’s what most of us _ live _ for; why we chose this line of work in the first place. Now, as for the anxiety…_that _ will only pass with time. Like everything else in medicine, codes have a systematic approach, a formula. One you’ve clearly memorized, as your actions today proved. But it’s still something that varies greatly on a case to case basis, and only real life experience truly prepares you for what they can throw your way. But don’t worry, you’ll gain plenty of that once you rotate back into cardio.”

Bryce was determined to prove himself, over and over again. He would make her proud. “I’ll be ready next time.”

“I know you will be…because you already are.”

The two of them fell quiet, noticing Carol’s eyes as they began to flutter, disorientation flashing across her face as she stirred from sleep. As she opened them all the way they darted frantically around the small room, processing all the the sudden changes in her surroundings.

When her gaze finally fell to him, she cracked a weak smile, relaxing back into herself.

“I feel like absolute shit,” she said hoarsely, struggling to adjust the way she was laying. “Weren’t you supposed to be the best there is? Why does - _ ahh! _ \- everything hurt so bad?”

Bryce clapped his hand over the one she had lying atop the sheets, giving her a gentle, reassuring smile. “Don’t strain your voice, Carol. It’s gonna take a little bit for it to return to normal.”

He swallowed hard, taking a deep breath before continuing.

“I want to_ start _ by telling you the appendectomy was a complete success. When I went in I noticed the organ had ruptured though, so we had to place a temporary drainage tube to make sure you don’t get an infection.” He moved the sheet to reveal the drain. “That’s what this little pouch on your stomach is, in case you were wondering.”

He glanced up to Dr. Adams as he put the sheet back in place, who stepped forward in silent support.

“There was another complication though, one much more serious…”

Bryce carefully explained everything that had happened as he’d gone to close out the surgery, remembering Carol’s curiosity from that morning and knowing she would want every detail. He even went as far as to stop and explain the harder medical terminology in simpler terms along the way.

Dr. Adams sat on the edge of the bed and warmly took over for him towards the end, letting Carol know that she and Dr. Morton would stop by later to further explain where things would go from here concerning her future cardiac care.

Bryce could only watch in empathy as the young woman before him went through each and every stage of grief, right before his eyes. She cracked a few jokes here and there as the three of them talked, dark humor clouding her obvious fears, and eventually seemed to wear herself down, struggling to stay awake as her eyes drifted shut once more.

Within a few moments she was fast asleep, and Bryce couldn’t blame her. She’d had one Hell of a day, and she deserved the rest.

“I’ll sit with her tonight. You take the rest of the day off,” Adams offered, placing a motherly hand on Bryce’s shoulder.

“Are you sure?”

“It’s not like I have anyone waiting up for me back home,” she said with a bitter shrug, glancing over her shoulder as a sly smile crept across her face. “But it seems_ you _do. Who’s that out there?”

Bryce leaned to the left, spotting Casey still waiting for him against the wall opposite the room. When she met his gaze she smiled softly, a faint and reassuring gift just for him.

“Dr. Casey Valentine,” he said, noting the pride that swelled in his voice as he spoke her name, “Internal Medicine.”

“Ahh,” Adams said, recognition in her voice, “Ramsey’s girl.”

Bryce grinned to himself, feeling warmth spread through his chest. “Not quite."

.

.

.


	6. Chapter 6

He and Casey walked side by side as they left the MSTICU, a tense but not uncomfortable silence settling between them. He stuck his hands in his pockets, not quite knowing what to say, not quite knowing what would happen now that everything was out in the open for the two of them. He finally spoke as they boarded the main elevators and the doors began to close.

“Case-”

“Bryce-”

He pressed the button for the ground floor, smiling to himself. “Go ahead. Ladies first.”

She bit her lip, eyes darting towards the floor shyly. “I was just wondering if you wanted to stay at my place tonight.”

“You should know the answer to that is always yes." He laughed, stealing a sideways glance at her. Was she _ blushing_? She never blushed. He liked it.

“I wasn’t finished,” she said with a teasing glint of a sparkle in her eyes. She reached out, lacing her fingers through his. Her hand was soft and feminine, warm in his as she locked eyes with him. “I was also going to ask if you’d stay for breakfast as well.”

He was taken back. “Would you be okay with that? With your roommates knowing about us?”

She smiled sweetly, gently squeezing his hand. “Only if you’re okay with it. Are you ready to tell people?

He grinned. “Valentine, I’m ready to shout it from the damn rooftops.”

The elevator doors opened to the main lobby, a room with floor to ceiling windows and stark white marble tiles. The rain from last night was still falling, heavily now by the looks of things, darkening the afternoon sky in a thick, grey overcast.

“No chance you have an umbrella hidden somewhere in those scrubs, huh?” Casey asked as they approached the doors hesitantly.

Bryce raised an eyebrow mischievously. “No, but you’re welcome to search for one anyways.”

She smacked his shoulder playfully, letting go of his hand as she marched over towards the corner of the room. By the potted plants there was a plastic lost and found bin, and she dug around inside of it until she found a small black umbrella. She held it up to him in question.

“Why not?” he shrugged.

It wasn’t technically stealing if they brought it back in the morning, right? She walked back over to him and together they exited the building, pausing as she opened the little umbrella and handed it over to him. He held it over their heads, standing shoulder to shoulder with her as they stepped out into the storm.

The wind was stronger than it had appeared from inside the hospital. It stung his eyes as they turned onto Emerson and downright _blinded_ Casey with her own hair as it whipped it around her face. It was a humorous sight, and he laughed right up until the moment the wind stole their umbrella right from his hand. He tried to catch it but failed, turning to watch in dismay as it soared down the sidewalk behind them and bounced across the street, weaving in between the throng of zipping cars.

“Forget it, it’s long gone!” Casey laughed as the rain soaked through their clothes. She reached for his hand, smiling as she took off in a run with him in tow. “Come on, slowpoke!”

They raced towards her house, breathless as they ducked under the awning and she fiddled around in her pocket for her keys. When she pushed open the door he raised an eyebrow in question at the neat stack of towels that had been left on the floor. Casey reached for one, handing it to him.

“Sienna takes water on the hardwood _very_ seriously,” she explained as she did her best to pat her hair dry.

It was no use though, the storm outside was raging and had done a number on the both of them. They retreated to Casey’s bedroom, closing the door behind them as they peeled away their wet clothes. Casey hung her coat and blouse off the back of the door to dry, then turned to hold out her plastic laundry basket in his direction. He tossed in his wadded up shirt with expert aim.

“Two points,” she said with a smile, reaching down to unzip the side of her pencil skirt.

“Just two?” he said in mock offense, “Come on, ref. That shot was perfect.”

She turned to him with a coy little smile, sliding her skirt slowly down her slender legs. She dropped it casually in the basket.

“Pants get you three points,” she informed him, most matter-of-factly.

Bryce felt his breath catch as he looked her over, standing there in nothing but a damp lace bra and black panties, her wet hair slipping from its tie and falling messily across her shoulder. He reached down and tugged his pants off, stepping forward to drop them soundlessly into the bin, his eyes never leaving hers.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “What’s that then, five points? I believe that makes me the winner, Valentine.”

He reached forward and picked her up by the waist, her laughter infectious as he turned and laid her out across the bed, bending down with his knees on the floor as he pushed either of her legs apart. He wasted no time, brushing his lips against the soft inner skin of her thighs. He kissed upwards until he reached her hip, biting and tugging her panties down teasingly slow with his teeth. With that pesky scrap of fabric out of the way he returned to her, watching from the corner of his eye as Casey’s hands twisted in her comforter.

“I’m pretty sure _ -oh!- _ I’m the real winner here…” she giggled breathlessly, her back slightly arching off the bed as he licked and teased her.

He reached up and inserted a single finger inside her, feeling her relax and welcome the intrusion with an excess of enthusiasm. Oh yes, she was _ more _than ready for him. He pulled away, quickly dropping his boxers and moving to position himself atop her, propping himself up with one arm as he reached between their bodies to join them together. 

_ "Bryce! _” 

God, he loved the way she said his name, like it was a song she loved to sing; like a promise she would always keep. He rocked his hips against hers, feeling her meet his movements with every thrust, her nails clutching at his arms, back, hips - marking him as hers. 

Her hand eventually slid forward, pressing upwards on the base of his abs. He knew their silent signals by heart, knew exactly what she wanted when she made little gestures like this. This particular press of hand meant it was time for him to flip over and let her have her way with him, something he would never, _ ever _ argue. He reached his hand under the small of her back, holding her steady as he rolled them over so she was straddling his hips, a sigh of pleasure slipping from her lips as that burst of movement passed between their bodies.

He watched her move against him then, eyes closed in bliss, one hand gripping the outer side of his thigh, the other settled on his chest for balance as she danced her passionate little dance, lost in the pleasure she stole from his body. 

His breathing was ragged as he struggled to hold out, to wait until she reached her own peak of pleasure first before letting himself go. But _fuck_, was it a struggle. She was taking her sweet time with him, bringing herself to the edge again and again before stalling her movements and allowing herself to come back down, each time riding him _ faster_, pressing against him _ harder_. 

Oh, she was the devil to be sure. She knew _ exactly _ what she was doing to him. He could tell by the amused twitch of a smirk forming in the corner of her lips as she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, letting it fall atop him. 

He shoved the damned thing aside, gripping her waist in either hand to guide her movements, grinding her in place against him roughly. She gave up trying then, a sharp cry erupting from her lips as her hands fell to grasp at his shoulders. She held on tightly as he continued to rock her there, thrusting upwards until he joined her. Afterwards, she collapsed against his chest, breathing hard as she brushed her hair back out of her face and grinned up at him. 

“God, I love you,” she said with a crooked smile, arching her back to kiss him lightly before slipping away and rolling out of the bed. He watched her stand up and stretch, her naked silhouette in the dark room capturing his full attention. 

She strolled lazily over to her closet and opened the door, pulling out two towels. One was orange and the other was bright pink.

“I think after all that I need a shower,” she said, tossing the pink one at him. “Care to join?” 

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing up and crossing the room. When he reached her he hooked an arm around her naked body, pulling her close. 

“Like you even have to ask?”

.

.

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End file.
